Faster Than a Heart Attack
by runicmagitek
Summary: Jack always hated Miranda. Everyone knew that. And the feeling was mutual... right? Or maybe their constant spats weren't fueled by rage, but something else. Mid-canon Jack/Miranda


She hated her.

That stuck up, pretentious bitch deserved to be punched in her perfect nose and put in her place. The moment Jack recognized the uniform and its signature colors and patterns, she _knew_ who she was. Perhaps not by name, let alone any level of acquaintance, but it didn't matter. Every single damn one of them was the same. It was Cerberus, after all. What good had they ever done for the galaxy? For _humanity_?

Fucking nothing, that's what.

She never bothered with meager conversation with the woman. Shepard might have encouraged the two to exchange idle talk instead of banter as a means to get to know each other, but Jack rolled her eyes. What was the point? What the hell would they even remotely have in common which would spark some delusional friendship? Fuck that. Jack wasn't there to make friends. She was thankful enough to have her life back - well, sort of - and once the crazy mission she was on was over, she was flying off in a random direction with both middle fingers in the air.

But a switch flipped on within her during the suicide mission. It wasn't a chaotic mess. It wasn't her running blind into the fray to rip everyone apart with her biotics. It was organized. Shepard saw to that. She always had. And just like Shepard said, they all got out of there alive due to their teamwork. Sometimes Jack reminisced over the task of maintaining the biotic shield. Jack wore that role like a damn medal on her chest, smirking at the damn bitch - little miss cheerleader - in passing to let her know that yes, Shepard picked the _best_ biotic to handle the job and not some genetic freak with daddy issues.

Though if Miranda had created the shield, she would have died. That thought should have left Jack laughing into hysterics. It didn't. Nothing sadistic triggered in Jack.

For the most part, she never dwelled on Miranda again. Jack had her own life since everyone parted ways. Years ago, she might have laughed over the teaching position offered to her, but what else was she to do? Reverting back to her old lifestyle had its perks - hell, at least it was _fun_ and nowhere near boring - yet a certain redhead was convincing enough to veer Jack towards a different path in her life. At first glance, it was a damn joke. Jack? In a conventional school setting? Yeah, okay. She would sooner bend and break any rules required for teaching biotic brats. A week transpired before Jack realized that she was _wanted_ for her idiosyncratic ways.

Well, minus the swearing. The higher ups could have done without that. Sadly for them, the kiddos admired her for it along with many other aspects.

For once, Jack understood the notion of home. It might not have been perfect, complete with jagged edges and scuffed up surfaces, but it was hers. People depended on her and vice versa, regardless if she wanted to admit it or not.

Shepard walking back into her life was a surprise, albeit a welcomed one. Miranda fucking Lawson appearing out of the blue? Not so much.

Not long after her reunion with Shepard, Jack had been pacing the docks and reading over reports of where her students were being shipped off to. Nothing they couldn't handle, but watching her babies fly from their nest for the first time pulled at more heartstrings than Jack wished to let on.

Looking up from her reading, Jack's eyes flashed wide open upon spotting the woman leaning into the railing to watch the ships come and go. Still wearing her usual tight get-up, still holding herself with that poise that screamed she was better than everyone. Because she wasn't cocky; simply stating the facts. Miranda's words, after all.

Jack clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes onto Miranda. She should have entered the Citadel proper and ignored all of it. Instead, she tossed her tablet back into her bag and stormed right up to the bitch.

Halfway through the trek, Miranda noticed her. She didn't flinch or smile in the presence of a familiar face, even a livid one. She just tilted her head and turned to face Jack head on.

"Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise." It was difficult to discern whether Miranda was apathetic or sarcastic with her intentions. Maybe a little of both.

Her lips parted again, but Jack didn't give her the chance to speak further. "Save the flowery bullshit."

She raised an eyebrow. "Nice to see you, too, Jack."

"The hell are you doing here?!"

Despite Jack leaving less than a foot of space between them, Miranda upheld her calm composure, loose arms crossed against her chest. Not that Jack was looking to intimidate her into running away, but it only plucked at Jack's nerves the more Miranda stood unfazed.

"Why does that matter to you?" Miranda asked. "I thought you didn't _care_ about me."

"Not going to argue with that, but considering no one from Cerberus - currently or formerly - is walking through the Citadel without a care in the galaxy, I think it warrants a damn good reason."

"Which is still none of your-"

"Oh, come on! Quit with the bullshit!"

Miranda gestured to the passersby in the distance. "Keep it up and surely people will question the commotion."

Jack scoffed. "Good. Maybe they'll haul your ass away."

With a sigh, Miranda's arm dropped to her side. "Is this what you want?" she asked in a whisper. "Look, Jack, I'm not here to cause a scene. Even if I'd enjoy putting you in your place, now's not the time."

 _Put me in my place._ Jack shook her head and rolled her eyes. _I_ _'d like to fucking see that._

"I know I'm not supposed to be here," Miranda continued. "Things haven't been... easy for me. You wouldn't understand."

"The feeling's mutual. Trust me."

What she didn't expect was for Miranda to narrow her eyes onto her. "Thanks, I was beginning to worry you'd grown soft."

Jack at least smirked in response.

Then Miranda knitted her eyebrows together. "Mind I ask what _you_ are doing here?"

"Oh, what's this?" Stepping back, Jack extended her arms to the side to further mock the woman. "I can't ask what the fuck you're doing here, but by all means, _you_ _'re_ allowed to do so?"

"For some reason, I highly doubt you're here escaping pirates."

Another smug grin. "What says I'm not?"

"Teaching young biotics seems to be a handful. Not enough time to raise mayhem in the galaxy when you're running around making sure everyone's not blowing each other up."

Jack's confidence faltered and shattered, her lips pulled downward as her arms collapsed into her body. " _What_?!"

"Don't act surprised."

"How the fuck did you know that?!"

This time, Miranda was smirking. "I have my ways. Or did you forget that?"

Jack glared straight through her. "Fucking bitch," she muttered beneath her breath.

But Miranda wasn't taken aback by the lowly insult. Instead, she chuckled and her lips quirked up.

"For what it's worth, I'm rather impressed, Jack. I'm sure you have much to offer the younger generations, more so than most seasoned teachers."

Not wanting to buy into the compliments, Jack raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. "Really?"

"Really." When Miranda spoke, her eyes softened. "They can relate with you. Look up to you, even. You stand by your words _and_ actions. Not many can say they do."

"Maybe _you_ can learn a thing or two from that."

Miranda sighed. "I'm trying, anyways."

Her gaze fell from Jack's and drifted to the massive glass panel. More ships docked at the premise and the speakers echoed of the arrival and departures of various vessels. Through that artificial silence, Miranda fractured before Jack; the smile remained, but Miranda's essence wilted. Jack couldn't comprehend it even if she tried, for she always refused to hide behind a mask. A life with a filter was no life at all, but even Jack was aware of how her own anger and violence had been a means to run and hide away from reality.

"I have matters to attend to," Miranda broke the silence with. "Would you... do me a favor and not mention to anyone that you saw me?"

"The hell is in it for me?" Jack spat back.

Tilting her chin up, Miranda's eyes caught in the light and stared into Jack's. "Nothing, really. Just one friend asking another friend for a favor."

Jack nearly choked on her spit. "A _friend_?"

"What else do you want to call us?"

"I don't know, but not _that_."

Miranda chuckled to herself. "I figured that seeing you're not throwing a table at my face, then it must be _some_ progress, hmm?"

Oh, Jack wanted to disagree with that, but the damn woman had a point. When Jack stuck to silence, crossing her arms in defiance, it expanded Miranda's smile.

"Do you _want_ to throw a table at me?"

"Bitch, if I _had_ one lying around, I would."

Now Miranda laughed. "I'll consider myself lucky then."

"Well, some things just don't change."

"Is that so? Funny, I was just thinking how much _you_ _'ve_ changed."

Blinking, Jack was at a loss for words, though only for a moment. "W-what? Is-"

"I should be going." Miranda pushed herself away from the railing and walked backwards. "You take care of yourself, Jack. It was good to see you again."

By the time Jack found her words - all of them laced with every swear she could muster forth - Miranda had faded out of sight. Part of her wasn't convinced she had stumbled upon the woman. Maybe it was a phantom and Jack hallucinated the meeting. Even then, Miranda didn't slit her throat with sharp words; she met Jack with an air that was reserved for non-enemies.

Jack continued to dwell on the chance encounter, even as she found her way into the Purgatory Bar. There, she read over her students' reports, though her mind continued to wander back to the brunette all by herself within the docks. She was on a mission; Miranda always was. Jack remembered her for her holier-than-thou attitude. She longed to smack that smile off of Miranda's face, but the anger was replaced with curiosity.

At one point, Jack had been looking for a reason to stop running and hiding. Maybe Miranda was no different.

* * *

She didn't expect to see Miranda again. Though to be fair, Jack wasn't planning on hunting the woman down. However, with everyone coming out of the woodwork and Shepard's knack for bringing people together, it was only a matter of time before the two crossed paths again.

Jack was all for a good party - like she needed a reason to dance and drink - though so long as she ignored the obvious annoyance on the other side of the room, there was nothing wrong. There was plenty of room in the flat and enough people to distract herself with to ignore the notion that Miranda Lawson was there. Jack caught up with those she hadn't seen since before the suicide mission, taking an extra gulp of her drink whenever she found herself glancing in Miranda's direction.

Though there was no amount of alcohol in the world to numb her from the nausea which surfaced when Miranda took a seat opposite her by the bar later that night.

"The hell do you want?" Jack barked out, ignoring the slight slur of her words.

Miranda smiled. Maybe she chuckled, too. Jack couldn't tell. "Hello to you, too, Jack."

"Weren't you just _fine_ over on _that_ side of the room?" She waved to a random area she believed to be where Miranda once was.

"Maybe I wanted a change of scenery."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, okay."

"Is it so difficult for us to have a simple conversation?"

"About _what_?"

She shrugged. "Anything. Maybe you can tell me how your students are doing."

 _For fuck_ _'s sake, you're still hung up on that?_ But Jack leaned into the table and raised an eyebrow. "And maybe _you_ can tell me about whatever the fuck adventure _you_ _'ve_ been on."

It was meant rattle Miranda and hopefully make her leave the table, because like hell she was about to pour her soul to anyone, let alone Jack. The damn bitch was built on secrets. Now wasn't going to be any different.

Except it was. "Fine by me."

"...Wait, what?"

Miranda cocked her head. "You first."

"Whoa whoa _whoa_! You're just going to _agree_ to that?!"

"Why not? What's done is done. I have nothing to hide anymore. And from the sounds of it, neither do you." But then she giggled - fucking _giggled_ , Jack swore by that - and leaned in to better catch Jack's eyes. "What, were you trying to get rid of me?"

"Um, _yeah_. No shit."

"You could've just said so." She paused. "Or were you trying to be nice?"

"Oh, fuck off."

Miranda failed at biting back a smile. "So how are the kids doing?"

Jack didn't want to give in. That meant the cheerleader _won_. Except that Miranda wasn't a Cerberus bitch anymore. From what the others said, Miranda was anything but that. Just like Jack wasn't the sadistic, biotic guinea pig for Cerberus to torment. They changed. They all had.

Thus she sighed and rattled off the details of her students and how worried she was about them with the war efforts taking place. It felt weird to be sitting there, sharing a few drinks with a friend - even calling others _that_ was weird to her - and not focusing on the Reapers. She didn't want her little ones to die, regardless of the circumstances. The thought of one of them dropping dead would mark her failure as a teacher.

Not that she wanted to open up to Miranda about any of it. Unfortunately for Jack, Miranda read enough into the sentiment.

"You care about them," Miranda said. "I'm sure that means a great deal to them. Everyone should have that."

"Have _what_?"

"A role model, if you will. Someone they can aspire to become. Like a big sister looking out for them."

No one had ever phrased it in those exact words. Jack scrunched her face up, thought it over, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess... that's a good point." Ugh, she _hated_ admitting Miranda was right. "Enough about me. You still have yet to dish out the details with your bullshit."

Again, Miranda faltered before Jack. She half expected the woman to wiggle her way out of the conversation, but to Jack's surprise, Miranda talked. Her voice remained low and soft, but she unveiled the layers which Jack never understood.

Miranda spoke of Horizon and a sister Jack never knew she had. She went into further details of her own life leading up to the events which pitted her against her father. In the end, Shepard used her charm to sway the man, but it wasn't enough to stop Miranda from ending the man's life.

 _We_ _'re not much different, you and I,_ Jack thought at one point through Miranda's story.

Two souls, polished to perfection. One sided with fury and the other with prestige, but in the end they craved to destroy that which created them. For too long, Jack was sick of who she was - who she had _become_ \- and desired her own path. Not one dictated by Cerberus or those wishing she was dead, but her own choice. Miranda was no different. Even she looked at herself and didn't see what everyone else saw.

"I only ever wanted to help others," Miranda said at one point. "It's lonely when there's no one else to talk with and share your thoughts and work with. All because nobody is on the same plane of existence as you."

In a blink of an eye, Jack recalled being locked up alone in her cell. All the tests, all the children glaring at her, all the dead bodies piling up thanks to her powers. No one praised her for it; she was simply dragged back to her cell and told to be grateful she was still alive. But she wasn't. Jack didn't come to learn what that felt like until recently.

"Yeah," Jack replied, the words living on her breath. "I get that."

Then Miranda chuckled. "I never thought I'd be sitting here and finding something for us to be _agreeing_ on."

Rolling her head to the side and staring through heavy lids, Jack sized up the woman. "What would you rather us be doing? Slinging insults at each other?"

"It'd be better than a table thrown at my face."

Jack roared with amusement. "There's one right over there." She jerked a thumb at a spare table off to the side. "Pretty sure I can make that a reality."

"You're drunk."

"I'm a biotic."

"Still drunk."

" _Still_ the most badass biotic to ever fucking grace this galaxy!"

Miranda shook her head. "More like the most depraved biotic to ever exist."

"What?!"

She caught sight of Miranda smirking. "There we go. Much better."

"Oh, I see how it is. You _really_ want to do this."

"For old time's sake?"

"Tch, girl, you might not be with Cerberus anymore, but you're still a fucking obnoxious cheerleader."

"At least I have all my hair."

"You couldn't rock this look even if you tried. Not when your genes were augmented for the prissy bitch look."

"If it means I have clean hair and clothing, then I won't complain."

"Hey!" Jack pawed at her leather jacket. "These _are_ clean!"

"If you say so."

Back and forth they went. From afar, they probably appeared like two rivals going at each other's throats. Nothing out of the norm. Jack didn't care. To rid herself of the garbage piling onto her shoulders was relaxing in a sense. Miranda sure as hell didn't waver or hold back. They could have gone at it all night.

That is, if Shepard hadn't shown up.

She watched the two for some time, arms crossed as her two allies were reenacting their days when they first met. Jack paid little attention to the redhead, though the minute Shepard dropped the comment about the two of them just kissing now to get it out of their systems, both Jack and Miranda dropped their bickering.

In fact, Miranda almost spat her drink out, coughing behind her hand. As for Jack, she stared up at Shepard - who was smirking all the while - and didn't hesitate to put _her_ in her place.

"Go fuck yourself."

Shepard grinned. "Shouldn't you be telling _her_ that?" And she motioned to Miranda, whose face dropped to a scarlet hue.

Jack didn't answer and with that, Shepard left them alone. Somewhere, Ashley made a fuss over it - "The hell was that?! You give me crap for not addressing you as _ma_ _'am_ when I insult you, but Jack gets a free ride?!" - but Jack was too busy focusing on Miranda to even worry. Oh lord, the woman was _blushing._ Jack couldn't recall when Miranda had ever been beyond flustered before. She had always been the paramount of confidence and yet there she was, more embarrassed than a schoolgirl confronting her crush.

"I-I need to go," Miranda ended up saying. "I need another drink."

"You're not even halfway through with the one you got!"

Before Jack finished her sentence, Miranda slid out of her seat and scurried across the room. To where, Jack didn't know. It sure as hell wasn't to the bar to consume enough alcohol to forget anything ever happened.

 _Damn it, Shepard, why did you have to go and ruin that?_

Except Shepard hadn't ruined anything, exactly. The two of them were just... arguing. Sort of. And before that, they were telling tales of their recent pasts. Like friends, in a sense. Really odd friends, but not acquaintances anymore either. Something better. Friends that were comfortable with calling one another degrading names.

Maybe a kiss _was_ better than yelling insults at each other. Or maybe that was the alcohol talking and Jack was better off dismissing Shepard's off-colored remark.

* * *

Being on Earth was odd. Not that she didn't want to be there - Jack planned on showing the Reapers they made a big mistake for pissing off the wrong race - but had she visited Earth on her own watch, Jack wanted there to be less bloodshed. A rather odd request coming from her, but it was the truth. For now, she had teams to divvy out orders to, some of them her own students. Somewhere out there, Shepard was with her own team. Jack sure as hell planned on making it out alive and when it was all over, she and the Commander herself were celebrating. Drinks on Jack, of course.

In the middle of double checking her ammo and firearms, Jack heard her name fill the air. Explosions and gunfire echoed in the distance, but it all faded out when she noticed who was addressing her. Turning on her heels, Jack spotted Miranda heading her way. The woman donned all black with loaded guns on each hip. Jack convinced herself she was checking out her choice in weapons and not the sway in Miranda's body.

"The hell are you doing here?" Jack called out.

"Same reason you're here, I imagine." Miranda paused before her, shifting her weight to one leg and perching a loose fist upon her hip. "Small world, though, if we're crossing paths now."

"If you say so. Figured you'd be out there ripping shit apart."

"I'm on my way to do so."

"And?"

"Is it a crime to stop by and say hello?"

Jack blinked. "I mean, we _can_ make it one if you want."

She giggled. This time, Jack didn't imagine a damn thing. "I wanted to wish you good luck."

"Pfff, I don't need luck."

"Well, forgive me for wanting you to come out of this alive."

 _Nope, I just imagined that._ "Don't want me to be bait for the Reapers?"

"Do you wish that for me?"

She wanted to say yes. Fuck, she did, but it didn't even tease her tongue.

Miranda took her silence to be her answer and smirked. "Regardless, I think they'd be rather torn if you were to die."

Jack followed Miranda's line of vision and peered past her shoulder to eye her students. Or what few of them were there. Others were scattered elsewhere. When they caught sight of Jack watching them, their backs stiffened and their actions quickened.

"I see you have a certain influence on them," Miranda commented.

"Eh, what can I say? I'm a pretty badass instructor."

As she brought her eyes back to Miranda, Jack swore the woman inched closer to her in that fleeting moment. Only several feet away, they locked eyes.

"Badass enough to survive all of this?" Miranda asked.

"We've been through worse, right?"

Miranda smiled along with her. "Of course."

"And when it's all over, we can celebrate and hope we don't have to fucking do it again."

" _We_?"

Jack hesitated. "I meant... _we_ as in you, me, Shepard, and everyone else. Like the good old times." Miranda continued to shoot a questioning gaze in Jack's direction, who in turn tensed her shoulders and sighed through a clenched jaw. "You know what I mean! Don't give me that look!"

"If you'd like, _we_ can have our own celebration."

"Oh, and what the fuck does that entail? Cocktail hour at some uppity joint?"

"No, but it _can_ involve drinks. I owe you one."

Jack snorted. "What, still chasing down that drink you needed to refill?"

She didn't expect Miranda to blush over that comment, but Jack sure as hell wasn't complaining.

"Well, get out of this alive," Miranda continued, ignoring Jack's amusement, "and we both can have drinks. I'll buy."

"About fucking time."

"Then it's a deal? Survive and we'll celebrate together?"

"Yeah yeah. Just don't buy the cheap shit."

"I never do."

Jack had more to say, but a series of howls caught her attention. Blinking, she looked back to find a handful of the boys in her group gawking at her and Miranda. They threw out comments about how the two were going on a date and it was about time that Jack found someone to have a good time with.

Though the moment they realized they were caught by their instructor, Jack was already flinging biotic energy their way. They screamed like the punk ass brats they were and skittered off.

"Serves you right!" Jack screamed while shaking a fist. "Next time, I'll actually shove that shit up your ungrateful asses! Fuck drinks, you guys are doing push-ups when we get the hell out of this alive!"

Some of the female students in the distance laughed over the events which unfolded. As for Miranda, she giggled and grinned while Jack calmed down.

And then she stepped towards Jack and bent at the hip, inches away.

"What, you don't want them knowing we're going on a date?"

Jack convinced herself _she_ wasn't blushing. "Drinks are hardly a date."

"Then what is?"

"The fuck do you care?"

Two hands latched onto the front of Jack's leather jacket and jerked her forward. She gasped and braced herself along Miranda's shoulders, only to lose her breath further when their lips met. There had been plenty of idiots she had kissed in the past, all of them forgotten after a couple of nights with the help of some alcohol, but the softness and passion residing within Miranda's warm mouth brought forth chills Jack had never experienced before. She wanted to open her mouth to her and taste Miranda fully. She wanted to envelop the woman with her arms and drag out the moment for as long as they were able to. Because maybe they'd never have this again.

Though right as Jack developed an addiction to the kiss, Miranda reined back, resting her forehead against Jack's and smiling into her lips.

"Because maybe," Miranda purred, "I think we just need to kiss and get it over with."

Her hold on the jacket loosened and much to Jack's dismay, Miranda began to slip away. As she pivoted on her heels, Jack grabbed Miranda by her arm and yanked the woman back into her. She slid an arm around Miranda's form, groping at that damn ass she kept teasing everyone with, and tucked her fingers beneath her chin.

"So it _is_ a date?" Jack growled into her, unable to hide the smile she wore.

Miranda mirrored her enthusiasm and stepped into Jack. "If you come out of this alive, I expect you to be using your biotics to throw _me_ against a table."

" _If_?" Jack chuckled. "Bitch, I _am_ coming out of this alive." Their lips brushed over one another's. Jack ignored the cheering which boomed from _all_ of her students now. "And you better be, too."

"I plan on it," Miranda murmured back before opening her mouth to Jack one last time. "I promise."


End file.
